Part Two: Baby Steps
Jean spent most of the weekend holed up in her office, organizing her lesson plans for the next week and reviewing the notes that Hank had left from her classes while she was away. Late Sunday afternoon, she was caught completely off-guard when a very pale Marie stumbled into the infirmary, clutching a shirt tightly to her side and cursing under her breath.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Jean heard her mumble, as she watched blood begin to seep through the shirt. It was enough to snap her out of her daze and immediately use her TK to move Marie onto an examining table as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.
"Marie, what happened? What did this?" she asked anxiously as she fought to remove her student's hands from her side. Marie only grunted in pain and gingerly wiped her hands on her shorts.
Jean stifled a gasp as she cut off Marie's shirt and saw the size of the gash. Opting to save the questions for later, she grabbed a clean towel to staunch the blood flow, and using her TK to apply pressure as Marie paled even further and bit down on her lip, she loaded a syringe with Xylocaine and injected the anesthetic directly into her patient.
Shortly thereafter, Marie's breath began to even out as the pain in her side receded. She focused on her Biology teacher, taking in the red hair, the now blood-spattered shirt, the green eyes that radiated concern and something Marie couldn't place, and most of all, the warm hands that were gently running across her skin as Dr. Grey checked the extent of her injuries.
For her part, once the shock of seeing Marie injured like this had passed, and she had ascertained that the damage looked far worse than it was, Jean found herself enjoying looking Marie over, taking in with her eyes and hands the muscles in her legs and shoulders, the curve of her hips, and the emerging hardness of her abdomen. She didn't dare look above.
Jean felt as if she had shocked them both when she released the pressure on the wound and quietly said, "That's going to need some stitches. Can you feel anything?"
Marie shook her head 'no,' and tried to avoid watching as Jean pulled out a suture kit, sterilized the area and began stitching her up. Feeling more settled than she had in a while, in spite of their ludicrous position (lying on an examining table in only your sports bra and running shorts while your biology teacher stitched up proof of your failure and stupidity was hardly the right time or place to have a 'breakthrough'), she looked over toward Jean once more and said, "I was meaning to come and talk to you anyway about our project."
Still carefully stitching, Jean couldn't help but let out a laugh at that. "And you couldn't have just emailed me or come in after class?"
"Well, I think this is a bit more memorable, don't you?" Marie quipped back.
"Certainly," Jean agreed as she finished stitching. She held her patient down as she tried to sit up. "No," she told Marie calmly. "You're going to lie there and rest while I suss you out properly."
Marie watched as Jean finished cleaning her up and bandaging the gash. She brushed a stray lock of white hair out of Marie's eyes as she took the pulse at her neck. Satisfied at last that Marie was well and truly okay, she pulled a chair up next to her patient and finally asked, "What happened, Marie?"
Unaccountably disappointed that Jean had finished bandaging her up and wishing that the hand that was resting on the table, so near to her shoulder, was on her, Rogue turned her gaze away from her teacher before quietly admitting, "I guess I pushed it a little too hard in the Danger Room."
Well I figured out that much. Jean thought to herself. Instead, she asked, "Weapons training?"
"Yeah. Blades." She responded uneasily. "I was, uh, getting a little tired and I missed my footing." Marie knew full well that Jean would probably go retrieve her training recordings later to see what had happened, and when she did she would find out that she'd been working a full two levels above her level four weapons clearance.
Jean had suspected as much, but she was getting tired of talking to Marie's profile. Relishing the opportunity to spend some time with the girl, curious about the extent of her gift, and knowing that trying to make her rest and heal would be either totally impossible, or at least counterproductive, she decided to try something. "Marie, drink this." She said, handing the girl a bottle of juice. She watched, fascinated, as Rogue sat up and swallowed half of it at a go. "How do you feel?" she inquired gently.
"Fine." Marie answered quickly. Seeing the disbelieving look Jean shot her, she hastily amended, "A little faded, maybe. But I'm okay. Really. Whatever you shot me with was good stuff."
Jean took a deep breath. "Marie, I know you're still a bit amped, but I want to try something. You game?"
Yeah. And the Pope's a bit Catholic. Marie thought. Jean caught the thought and laughed aloud again.
"Doc, are you reading me?" Marie almost growled. Jean could feel the levity being sucked out of the air, could feel Marie shutting down and closing her out again. Her student, on the other hand, was more worried about what she would find out than about the intrusion into her thoughts.
Sensing the impending panicked reaction, Jean hurried to put a stop to the inevitable. "Marie, don't shut down on me. I just picked up on a stray thought, that's all. I can't help it; I'm a telepath. I'd never do that to you."
Inwardly, she couldn't believe that she was in such a rush to justify herself to her intensely private student. But so it was. Jean couldn't bear the thought of alienating Marie and she certainly wasn't ready for this little interlude to end. She looked down at Marie, who was looking as inscrutable as ever.
"Fine. I'm sorry for channeling Logan there. I just…" Marie trailed off.
"I get that, Marie. And believe it or not, I actually want you to channel Logan, or at least, his power that you absorbed. So, I ask again, are you game?"
Much as she hated the thought of anything to do with her mutation, Jean looked so… cute, so hopeful, that she couldn't bring herself to refuse. Making a bit of a show of it, she acceded. "Alright. If the Doctor wants to play, who am I to refuse her?"
Jean could feel her excitement bubble in her. If Marie could control individual aspects of her mutation, then maybe she could control all of it… but she was getting ahead of herself.
Could you get any closer to rubbing your hands together, Jean? Marie smirked at her. She was a little shocked when her teacher answered her aloud. "Yes, I'm restraining myself for your sake. Now, loosen yourself up a bit, shut your eyes and focus on your breathing."
Marie did as she was told. With her eyes closed tightly, she tried to focus on the steady in and out of her breath. She tried not to think about how good it felt to have Jean focused on her. How she wasn't feeling alone for the first time since her mutation had manifested itself.
In. Out. In. Out. Come on Marie. Just focus. In. Out. In. Out. You can do this. In. Out. NOW DAMMIT!
Jean could see that this wasn't working. Marie was trying too hard. She tried a different tactic. "Marie, this isn't a test. You're not out to prove anything. Just rest. Just be for a few minutes, okay? Relax and let your mind take you where it wants."
That got a better reaction. For the first time in awhile, Marie allowed herself the freedom to just revel in how comfortable she was. For awhile, she let herself forget that she had something to prove. Jean saw and felt her let go as her breathing evened out. After a few minutes, she began guiding Marie. "Marie, I want you to think about when you absorbed Logan's power. Can you do that for me?"
The breathing pattern picked up for a few seconds before Marie visibly re-centered herself and nodded. "Think about how that felt to have it flow through you. Do you remember?"
Again, Marie nodded, not noticing as her fists clenched. Still her breath and heartbeat remained steady. "He gave you two gifts, Marie. One was regeneration. Can you feel that?"
Another nod. "Focus on that Marie. Use it. Try and use it now."
Jean watched Marie continue to breathe for another minute or two, taking in the details of her form and features, before she heard Marie let out a small gasp. The girl was clearly trying hard to keep focused. Looking down, Jean watched as the gash sealed itself over and began to heal. Marie had done it. With another small moan, the girl slumped to the table, leaving the wound still present, but clearly better.
Jean managed to remember to slip on a lab coat before she hopped up onto the examining bed and cradled Marie to her. Moments later, Marie came back to herself.
"How'd I do?" she asked wearily, totally content either way to stay where she was for a very long time.
"You did great. I'd bet I can pull those stitches out tomorrow now." Jean replied. "And I doubt there'll even be a scar."
Basking in the glow of Marie's accomplishment, neither of them noticed that Jean's sleeve had ridden up where it rested against Marie's shoulder. After a few minutes, Marie shifted, and realizing the position they were in, Jean let her go with a last, gentle squeeze. Feeling slightly awkward as she began to recognize what she was feeling around the redhead, Marie jumped off the examination bed and grabbed her shirt as fast as her injury would allow. She'd just about managed to make it out the door when she heard Jean calling to her. "Marie," her teacher said with a self-satisfied smile on her face, "about your project? Meet me in my room after class tomorrow."
Jean's eyes never left the retreating form until the infirmary doors shut behind her.